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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328321">A Clan of Three</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyTabris/pseuds/SassyTabris'>SassyTabris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Will, A Way, And A Ghost [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Soldiers, Children Commit Murder, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Harm to Children, Liberal Misinterpretation of Canon, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Mentioned Parent Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Paz is Din’s adoptive brother AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, because fuck that honestly I’m here for a good time, child endangerment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:00:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyTabris/pseuds/SassyTabris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Foundling. Din decided he liked that word a lot better than ‘orphan’.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin &amp; OC &amp; Paz Vizsla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Will, A Way, And A Ghost [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. “Good. Welcome to the Mandalorians.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I PROMISED ID WRITE FLUFF FOR THIS AU AND IM FUCKING DELIVERING.<br/>In this chapter Din is about 8, Paz being closer to 10 or 11. They’re OOC as a result. Because they’re kids. </p><p>The specifics of the covert will be explored/explained eventually, because I actually do have a lot of HC’s and thoughts as to how Din’s covert evolved and ended up in their situation on Nevarro. Several OCs are mentioned in this fic besides Bes and will show up as characters here and there as it goes on.</p><p>Mando’a:<br/>Ad - child, in this case ‘son’<br/>Ad’ika - little one, child (affectionate)<br/>Buir - parent, in this case ‘dad’</p><p>Inspired by Toasty-Cowboy’s art on Tumblr</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was static in his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din tried to put his hands up over his ears to muffle it, but if anything it seemed to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>louder</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There was a humming under his feet, undercut by chatter and heavy clanking footsteps that made Din itch to run and hide. But he didn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Across from him was the soldier that saved him. The man in his strange blue armor was fumbling around for… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Din couldn’t see past him into the locker. Maybe he didn’t want to, either. Din shuddered and closed his eyes tightly before he drew his hood closer to his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to go home. But the droids had destroyed it. His house had been one of the first to burn, bombarded with shells as the droids began their assault. There was nothing but rubble now. He’d seen it, when his father and mother had picked him up and ran. All of their pictures. His toys. His mother’s loom. Gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like his parents. Din wasn’t naive. He knew they were dead. Just… hadn’t seen the bodies. The blue warrior had shielded his gaze from where he assumed they might have lay (if there was anything of them left. Din had seen far too many altercations in this war for an eight year old who had never left his home planet). Maybe… maybe they weren’t dead? No. No they were. He wasn’t a baby anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kid? Hey, ad’ika, are you with me?” The warrior’s voice came sharply into focus and Din squirmed back on the bench he’d been perched on, curled on himself. The warrior tilted his helmeted head and knelt until they were eye level (maybe? Din assumed they’d be where the visor was). “What’s wrong with your ears?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din swallowed thickly and didn’t move as the warrior slowly pulled his hands away from his head. The warrior checked his palms, then looked carefully on both sides of Din’s head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm… probably some damage from hearing those bombs and grenades unprotected. No blood, so it’s not ruptured…” The warrior murmured, seemingly to himself. Din winced when the stranger carefully poked his ear. “Does that hurt?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” He squeaked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. I don’t know what I can do for it, but don’t cover it just in case, okay? We’ll have a medic look at you soon. Until then,” The warrior turned away for a moment before he held out his arms, a heavy blue jacket with some boots piled on top resting in them. “Here. It gets cold in space, even with the thermoregulators. I swear, Midze keeps us running around like icicles because she thinks it’s funny. The boots might be a bit too big for you, but I think you’ll live.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s are they?” Din blurted out without thinking. He quickly covered his mouth. The warrior stared at him for a moment, and Din almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>swore</span>
  </em>
  <span> the helmet looked amused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My ad’s. You’ll meet him soon. He’s a few years older than you are, but he’ll take to you like a clone would an identity crisis.” The warrior replied, tone suspiciously chipper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din had a feeling this ‘ad’ wouldn’t like him that much at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name anyways, ad’ika?” The warrior asked him once Din was bundled and the medic (a short one with mint colors in their armor. Din didn’t think they were much older than his former neighbor had been, and she was only fifteen) had given him a once over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um… Din. Djarin.” He murmured, adjusting the heavy coat around himself. As the warrior had promised, the ship had gotten considerably colder when they exited the atmosphere of his planet. Din hadn’t even realized just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was, let alone just how big everything else was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice to officially meet you then, Din.” The blue warrior hummed and ruffled his hair. It was a little uncomfortable between the glove and the armor on the man’s wrist, but Din couldn’t help but lean into it regardless. It was familiar. Like touching a ghost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” He asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Oh! Right.” The warrior laughed and looked down at him, “my name is Bes. Of Clan Vizsla, but I’m not associated with them anymore.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How come?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes didn’t reply for a moment. He was so quiet that Din was almost afraid he’d offended him. But, finally, the man answered, “Let’s just say we had unsolvable differences in ideology. That, and we fought too much. It’s for the best.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din looked up at him skeptically, but didn’t push the matter further. It was sad that he didn’t want to talk with his clan anymore. Din didn’t think he could ever stand to be alone like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?” He asked instead of pushing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just told you?” Bes replied easily, his helmet tilted to the side. He then looked down at himself and hummed a quiet little ‘ah’ noise. “You’ve never met a Mandalorian before, have you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A Mandalorian? Din blinked and shook his head slowly. His parents had never mentioned anything about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mandalorians</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or if they had, they did it where he hadn’t been able to hear. Bes nodded a little and gestured for Din to take a seat on a couple of tied crates near the ship’s window. Once he was seated, Bes sat on the floor across from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All of us on this ship are Mandalorians. We’re going back to our covert, who are also Mandalorians. We are…” Bes paused, considering. “... </span>
  <em>
    <span>true</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mandalorians,” he said with a strange tone that Din couldn’t decipher. “We have all sworn ourselves to a creed, and we use it to defend one another. We are warriors. We are hunters. And we have taken you in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din quietly nodded, though it didn’t really make sense to him. He hardly knew what a Mandalorian </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>, still. At least they weren’t droids. Though some of the warriors- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mandalorians</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he amended- had certainly walked heavy enough to sound like them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Am I gonna go to an orphanage?” Din asked as the thought fluttered across his mind. Bes huffed softly and laid his hands on his knees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any other family?” He asked in lieu of an answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. Just my mom and papa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then we take you to our covert. You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind of </span>
  </em>
  <span>be like an orphan, but not quite. We call kids like you foundlings,” Bes replied carefully. He sounded like Din’s papa when he was trying to stop Din from crying. Din sniffled quietly and rubbed at his eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, ad’ika. I promise, you won’t be alone. Our covert— it’s like a big family, okay? We’ll watch over you. We’ll take care of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes offered his arms outward to him. Din didn’t think twice before he pushed off the crate and curled up in the Mandalorian’s lap. The armor was cold, but at least it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Din could even pretend it was his father holding him, even if it was only for a moment. Bes didn’t hug like either of his parents. But it felt safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be alright. I know nothing will replace your family, but I’ll try my best to be there for you, okay? You’re my foundling.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Foundling</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Din decided he liked that word a lot better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>orphan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He tucked his head against Bes’s shoulder like he had when the Mandalorian had propelled them into the sky, and slowly fell asleep to Bes speaking to him in a language he didn’t know.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The covert was louder than the ship had been. Din found himself plastered to Bes’s side as the Mandalorians and himself disembarked, both of his hands curled tightly around the older man’s left one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least a dozen Mandalorians met them at the landing pad, their armor painted a mix of dark blues, blacks, and teals. Some had pauldrons painted with the same crest that was painted on Bes’s pauldrons, but most had unique symbols. Din almost swore one of the crests even looked like a loth-cat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Interspersed with the armored Mandalorians were those who wore no helmets. The younger ones didn’t even wear armor, whereas their older counterparts were mostly suited up. One of the eldest (a lime green twi’lek with strangely short lekku) quickly crossed the crowd to the Mandalorian medic who had looked Din over almost a day cycle ago and engulfed them in a hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Buir!” Din tore his eyes away from the teenagers as he heard the voice approaching. A boy only a few years Din’s senior was running toward them, outfitted in dark blue civvies that had pauldrons that almost dwarfed his frame attached to his shoulders with mismatched belts. Bes knelt and held his free arm out to catch the boy in a hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ad! Paz, where in the galaxy did you get these? Don’t tell me you stole them from the armory.” Bes laughed and ruffled the boy- Paz-‘s short curly hair. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was ‘ad’. Din suddenly felt very self aware and let go of Bes’s hand to pull the blue coat he’d borrowed off of his shoulders. The movement caused Bes to look over his shoulder and tilt his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t, I promise! That Kryze lady visited to try and talk to us when you were gone, and she said I could have these if I told you she wanted to talk.” Paz scoffed. He clearly didn’t have a high opinion of whoever ‘Kryze’ was. Paz followed Bes’s gaze and blinked at Din owlishly, even more so when the younger boy quickly pushed the jacket into his hands. “Who are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I, um. I’m sorry, I borrowed this.” Din sputtered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but who </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?” Paz repeated and took a step closer. Din gulped and stood stock still, as if that would take Paz’s attention off of him. “Buir?” Paz said with something akin to a groan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is Din. He’s a foundling.” Bes replied easily. He gently pressed a hand to the back of Din’s shoulder and pushed him a bit closer to Paz. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paz frowned and narrowed his dark eyes at Din as if he had personally offended him. Maybe he had? Din didn’t have a clue as to what would be offensive to a Mandalorian. Maybe Paz just didn’t like the red of his robes? When the other boy moved forward, Din winced and prepared himself for some sort of assault. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> Paz. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suffice to say he was shocked when he was pulled into a firm hug rather than challenged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the covert, Din. If anyone messes with you I’ll fight them for you, don’t worry!” Paz grinned and squeezed Din before he finally let him go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Din managed, his chest still feeling a little bit squished from the embrace. Bes chuckled and put a large hand on both of their shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Paz’ika, why don’t you go round yourself and our new foundling up some food? I’ll show him where to sleep. He needs the rest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yessir!” Paz said and saluted the tall Mandalorian and ran off through the crowd. Din was almost certain that the angry yelling that followed had something to do with how little Paz seemed to care about shoving fully armored soldiers more than twice his strength.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes shook his head and sighed before he gestured for Din to follow him. He muttered something in the same language these Mandalorians all seemed to share, but Din didn’t bother to try and listen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was so</span>
  <em>
    <span> tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>————————-</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sleep came fitfully in the covert. The walls were thin enough that Din could hear almost every snore in the encampment. He was almost sure he could hear the snores from the nearby farms that supplied it, too. Though he knew that was impossible. They were too far away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shifted on the cot Bes had pulled out of storage for him and tried to cover his ears again. It was just too </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Too much. He sniffled and curled tightly around himself. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to sleep on his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mother wasn’t around anymore to… to hold him when he had a nightmare. His father wasn’t either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din opened his eyes and stared into the dark room, struck by a sudden realization. His parents were never going to do that again. They were gone. He knew they were gone, and dead. He had known for a while by now. But they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Din felt their absence keenly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed himself out of his cot when he felt his eyes begin to water. His heart rattled in his chest and his lungs felt like they were stuck mid-exhale. Was he dying too? Din hiccuped and wobbled across the cool floor as fast as he dared. He didn’t want to wake everyone. The door opened with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>woosh</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Din ducked through it quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes had a room. Most of the older Mandalorians did, or at least, they shared ones with family. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>alor</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as Bes had called her, anyways, had mentioned this wasn’t always standard. Their shelter was just big enough to allow it this time, for whatever reason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din would be lying if he said he had paid much attention. He had been tired. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired. But his heart also felt like it was about to explode.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quietly knocked on Bes’s door and waited, shaking like a leaf. There was no answer. A small pit of dread began to form in his stomach. Did Bes leave? He promised he’d stay close by. Din knocked again, more insistently. Any relief he felt upon the door opening was quickly squashed when he was faced with Paz rather than the armored figure he’d come to regard as safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Paz yawned. His curly blonde hair was sticking up in odd places. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D-Do… you… erm.” Din took another shaky breath, “Bes?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paz blinked at him owlishly. And then he opened his mouth in a small ‘oh’. He grabbed Din by the hand and yanked him into the room with a surprising amount of strength, ignoring Din’s noise of protest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older boy dragged him deeper into the room and shoved him backwards onto a pile of pillows. Din winced and tried to stand again, only for Paz to hold his shoulders down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chill out. Buir isn’t here right now, he said he had to take a call, but he’ll be back; ok? We can hang out until he does.” Paz said. It sounded mostly like nonsense to the roaring in Din’s ears, but he nodded anyways. Paz grinned and scurried off, turning a few of the gentler lights on before disappearing around a corner. He returned before Din could even call after him, arms laden with a few thin blankets and something that looked suspiciously like a stuffed tooka. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older boy plopped down onto the pillows beside him and tossed a blanket over his head. Din quickly wormed his way out of it, only to have the toy he correctly identified shoved into his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here. I’m getting too old for it anyways, and you look like you need to hug something.” Paz shrugged. Din didn’t bother to hide his sniffles this time. He squeezed the tooka close to his chest and tried to imagine it was giving him the hug, rather than the other way around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To his credit, Paz was quiet. The older boy tossed another blanket around Din’s shoulders, and curled his own knees up to his chest. He didn’t even look mad that Din had woken him up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... I don’t think it’s working.” Din managed to say after a moment.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The cat. I still don’t feel good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paz made a face and contemplated Din’s words for a moment. Finally he shrugged and pulled Din close to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around the younger boy and gently bumped their foreheads together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Buir always does this when I’m feeling bad. So… hope it works for you, too. I’m running out of ideas.” Paz admitted quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... This is fine.” Din said quietly and pressed his forehead against Paz’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... What happened anyways? Do I have to beat up one of the other foundlings? ‘Cause I will!” Paz boasted, and Din snorted. He could still feel the urge to run vibrating under his skin, but it was suppressed now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I,” He frowned and closed his eyes tightly. “I’m never going to see my mom or papa again. I don’t even know where I am. I’m tired and I can’t sleep because I keep… I hear them. The droids and my parents.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paz didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he squeezed Din tight to his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got us now. There’s no droids in our room. We won’t let them come in, okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Now try to sleep and stop freaking out, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Paz groaned loudly. Din scowled and pinched his side. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bes returned almost an hour later. He turned the lights off and adjusted the blankets over the sleeping boys, a small smile dancing under his helmet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he didn’t have to worry about Paz getting jealous of having a brother, after all.   </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. You’ll Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” </p><p>“I fail and die very lamely.” Paz answered seriously.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A time skip for this chapter of four years.<br/>Paz is close to 15, and Din is 12. </p><p> </p><p>As an explanation for some things mentioned in the chapter; A good majority of the (mostly agricultural) locals within about 20 miles are aware of the covert’s presence and are allied to them for both protection and to have a steady supply of paying customers for their produce.</p><p> </p><p>Mando’a translations:</p><p>Adike- children, little ones</p><p>Alor- leader, officer, chief </p><p>Aruetii- foreigner, outsider (can also mean traitor) </p><p>Al’verde- commander </p><p>Buir- parent, in this case ‘father’</p><p>Dar’manda- no longer a Mandalorian, one who has lost their heritage and so their identity and soul </p><p>Mand’alor- lit. ‘Sole ruler’, ruler of all Mandalorians (or at least a faction of them)</p><p>Vod- sibling, in this case ‘brother’</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Din. Hey. Din.” </p><p> </p><p>Din groaned and rolled onto his stomach, covering his ears with his hands. It was too early for whatever Paz was trying to pull. </p><p> </p><p>“Go to <em> sleep </em>.” He grumbled. </p><p> </p><p>There was silence, for a moment. Enough for Din to slowly let his guard down and begin to slowly fall back asleep. Then he was suddenly landing on the floor with a loud thud and a spark of pain along his back. </p><p> </p><p>“<b> <em>PAZ</em> </b>!” He yelled and scrambled to his feet, but the offending boy had already jumped out of striking distance. Paz was fully dressed in the repainted bits of armor that Bes had stolen on jobs for them to wear, a small blaster pistol strapped to his thigh. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” </p><p> </p><p>“Buir wants us out by the Salwa farm before the sun rises. Just thought you’d like to know.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s-“ Din frowned and looked at the digital clock perched on the wall beside his bunk. “<em> Four am </em>. The sun doesn’t rise for another three hours!” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh no. I guess we’ll just… have to get there early?” Paz smirked and batted his eyelashes in the fakest attempt at innocence Din had ever seen from him. He scowled and narrowed his eyes at the curly haired blonde.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you planning?” </p><p> </p><p>“Me? Planning? Never! I’m too dumb to plot, you said so yourself a few days ago.” Paz grinned and tossed one of Din’s pauldrons at him. “Get ready. I want to get there before buir does.” </p><p> </p><p>“I swear, if you make me try to prank him again, I’m telling the alor and making sure <em> you’re </em> the one cleaning everyone’s armor this time. For a <em> week </em>.” Din huffed. Paz just grinned wider if it were possible and cheerfully left Din to his own devices. </p><p> </p><p>Din grumbled to himself as he put his armor on. He fumbled at the buckles and straps with unpracticed hands and bit the inside of his cheek. Not long after Bes had saved him four years ago, the older man had begun to train him. Sometimes alongside Paz, sometimes alone. Rarely, another member of the covert entirely would step in and teach him a thing or two before they dropped him back off with Bes. It was a routine by now. </p><p> </p><p>It had bothered him for a while, just how <em> casually </em>the covert approached teaching him how to kill. It had never once been sugar coated to him; to be a Mandalorian was to be a warrior. If he would not be trained, then he would have to find shelter and family with one of the farms that the covert had allied themselves to, and stay with them when the covert inevitably left. </p><p> </p><p>Din didn’t want to lose his family again. No matter how nice the locals were.</p><p> </p><p>So he stuck with his training. Even though it left him feeling more sore than any twelve year old had a right to be. He could be a Mandalorian, he knew he could. He was already starting to become fluent in Mando’a, which was more than some of the other foundlings could say. </p><p> </p><p>He finished adjusting his mismatched armor and snapped the belt holding his holster around his waist. He checked that the blaster’s safety was still on before he hurried after Paz. The older boy was waiting surprisingly patiently near the door to their family quarters, a stupid grin stuck on his face. Din did <em> not </em> resist the urge to swat the back of his head before he took off down the hall, smirking to himself as Paz’s outraged squawk followed him. </p><p> </p><p>The covert was quiet this early in the morning. Most of them were still asleep, or at least pretending to be. It wasn’t until Din finally skidded to a halt outside of the bunker they had fashioned into their home that he finally saw another Mandalorian. </p><p> </p><p>Tal Oya. They had been a medic ever since they completed their trials a year before Din had joined the covert, and they had been the one to check him for injuries after Bes had saved him. They were short and quiet, though the bright greens and teals they painted on their grey armor acted ironically like a beacon. </p><p> </p><p>He ducked around them and saluted them quickly. “Good morning. How’s guard duty?” </p><p> </p><p>Tal tilted their buy’ce down at him, and turned back to where Paz was still running down the hall. They sighed and shook their head fondly. </p><p> </p><p>“More exciting now. Where are you two going?” </p><p> </p><p>“Buir wanted us out by the Salwa farm before sunrise!” Paz chirped as he passed them, sliding to a stop in the mud beside Din and shoving him roughly into the dirt. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” </p><p> </p><p>“Hey yourself! You hit me first.” </p><p> </p><p>“Second! You shoved me out of bed-!” </p><p> </p><p>“Both of you shut up,” Tal laughed and offered their hand to Din. Din accepted and pulled himself to his feet with the extra help, grumbling as he patted dust and mud off his armor. “The Salwa farm, hm? Are Bril and Sonya having trouble with womp rats eating their crops again?” </p><p> </p><p>“Shouldn’t you know? Isn’t Rees your <em> boyfriend </em>?” Paz cooed. Tal stared at him, clearly unimpressed. </p><p> </p><p>“No.” They said dryly. “Isn’t it too early to go anyways?” </p><p> </p><p>“That’s what <em> I </em>said.” Din grumbled. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be such a jerk about it.” Paz huffed and nudged him. “And yeah, but hey, better early than late huh?” </p><p> </p><p>“... Mhm.” Tal agreed, still not amused. “If I see an explosion, Meera will know it was you. And you can put the bacta on yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yessir, no problem sir,” Paz said breezily. He clapped his arm around Dins’ and began to drag him away from the older Mando. Din heard the beskar creaking behind them in the tell-tale motion of arms being crossed. </p><p> </p><p>“What is he going to do to those kids?” Tal’s soft chuckle floated in the space they had left.</p><p> </p><p>—— —— ——</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure this is the place?” Din asked quietly as he propped himself up on the rickety wooden fence that surrounded the Salwa family’s farm. </p><p> </p><p>The twi’leks had all been awake when they passed the farmstead itself earlier, and Sonya had offered them some of their extra muffins. Din knew they were from a failed batch. He’d visited the family often enough to know Sonya could never bake something right on the first try, no matter how many times she’d done it. He’d never complain, though. Even if they were crispy and a bit too dry, they were food, and even back on his homeworld he’d known better than to refuse it when offered. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m positive!” Paz huffed. He had practically inhaled the muffin that was given to him, and still had a few dark crumbs stuck to his face. “See? Buir said these are the exact coordinates.” He turned and shoved the communicator in Din’s face. </p><p> </p><p>“I can’t see if you’re just going to blind me with it.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Whatever </em>.” Paz said with a scowl and shoved the communicator back into his pocket. “Point is, he usually sets up the night before, right? Why isn’t there anything here?”</p><p> </p><p>Din considered this for a moment. He looked out across the acres of forest and farmland that surrounded them. If he narrowed his eyes, he could see Rees (scarred lekku and all) running after a loose pack animal in the distance. </p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t a sign of Bes anywhere out there. He turned and looked back at the ground around them. Paz was still fuming and grumbling. Din tuned him out and looked around them with as careful an eye as he could manage. Then, a glimmer caught his eye.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” He kicked out at Paz’s knee and pointed. “Look there.” </p><p> </p><p>Paz scowled at him, but did turn. When he noticed what Din had pointed out, he knelt down and carefully scooped up the item that had caught both of their eyes: the lense of a scope. He looked back over his shoulder, frowning. </p><p> </p><p>“What the hell is this supposed to mean?” </p><p> </p><p>Din blinked and looked out at the fields around them again. </p><p> </p><p>“I think he wants us to track him down.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ugh. A <em> scavenger hunt </em> ?!” Paz groaned and tossed the lense to Din, who fumbled to catch it. “Why? The suns not even up yet. I’d rather do more battle training, <em> actually </em> stretch my legs!” </p><p> </p><p>“Because you’ll need to learn it eventually.” Din snarked back at him and pocketed the lense. He hopped off the fence and looked around them in a wide circle. Bes was a big guy, but he could move unseen when he wanted to. Din had been on the receiving end of a few too many ‘surprise hugs’ to think of the man as anything but a wildcard. </p><p> </p><p>“I want to be a <em> warrior </em> , not a hunter. There’s no glory in walking after someone menacingly. It doesn’t even <em> look </em> cool, it makes you look stupid.” </p><p> </p><p>“You already look stupid, so I’m assuming it’s not hard.” Din smirked. Paz reached out to swat him, and Din ducked under the assault. “Look at it this way- you’re fourteen. Maybe he’s testing to make sure you’re ready for your trials.” </p><p> </p><p>Paz blinked and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… yeah, maybe. I guess.” </p><p> </p><p>“Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” </p><p> </p><p>“I fail and die very lamely.” Paz answered seriously. Din sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. </p><p> </p><p>“Nobody dies in a cool way. We both know you’re going to go out trying to train in the Rising Phoenix and fly face first into someone’s ship.” </p><p> </p><p>“Says you. Anyways, shut up, we have a Buir to find.” Paz grinned and squeezed his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“I hate you.” </p><p> </p><p>“I love you too!” </p><p> </p><p>—— —— ——</p><p> </p><p>They say time flies when you’re having fun. Well, whoever ‘they’ were, Din wanted to throw a rock at them. </p><p> </p><p>He was not having fun, and time was <em> not </em> flying. If anything, it was dragging. He and Paz had spent hours trying to find the next clue Bes had left to his whereabouts. Between trying to track footprints (two attempts of which had just lead them straight back where they’d started, having followed their own on accident), and a handful of strategically placed weapon parts, Din was quickly growing frustrated with the entire venture. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure he didn’t just send us out to get rid of us for the day.” He grumbled, picking the petals off of a flower he had plucked from the ground. </p><p> </p><p>“No way. He was very serious when he told me, and you know how he is when he’s trying to act serious.” Paz cleared his throat and set his shoulders, trying to make himself look much bigger than he was. “‘Grr, I’m Bes Vizsla, I talk like I haven’t stopped smoking spice in six years and I make fun of my kids all the time.” </p><p> </p><p>“You mean his kid.” Din scoffed and tossed a handful of petals at his face. “He hasn’t adopted me.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Paz paused and blinked at him. “No, he has? Din, come on, I thought you just called him Bes because he wasn’t your birth dad-“ </p><p> </p><p>“- He’s not yours either, he’s your uncle-,”</p><p> </p><p>“- Shut up. As I was saying- he <em> did </em> adopt you?” </p><p> </p><p>“When?” </p><p> </p><p>“Like three days after you came in? I remember because he asked me first.” Paz huffed and punched Din’s shoulder a bit too roughly. “Don’t you remember?” </p><p> </p><p>“Uh.” Din frowned and rubbed at his shoulder, “... I remember a lot being said in Mando’a?” </p><p> </p><p>“But he translated it too, right? ‘I know your name as my child’?” Din flushed and tossed the remaining bits of flower at Paz’s face. The older boy started to laugh maniacally. “What did you <em> think </em>he meant?!” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know?! I thought it was something religious, or-“ </p><p> </p><p>“Din, you <em> dumb piece of shit </em> ,” Paz wheezed and keeled over onto his side in the underbrush. Din blushed more and covered his face with his hands. “I call you vod all the time! We <em> share a room </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up!” Din groaned into his hands. Paz’s laugh just increased in volume. “How was I supposed to know?” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay,” Paz wheezed as the giggles began to subside. He held out one hand placatingly and tried to pat Din’s arm, missing by a mile through the tears in his eyes. “Look, I get it. But vod… the <em> context </em>. We’ve been teaching you Mando’a!” </p><p> </p><p>Din groaned and kicked out at his downed <em> brother </em>, only for his ankle to be caught mid-swing. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” Paz said through his snickers and released Din’s leg. “I just… thought you knew.” </p><p> </p><p>“Well I didn’t. Can we move along? He’s going to get mad if we sit here all day.” Din said. He crossed his arms and watched Paz pull himself up to his feet with a quiet grumble. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Come on, I thought I saw a holster hanging from a branch up ahead anyways.” The older boy said with a small shrug. Din knew Paz well enough by now to know that this was his way of apologizing. He’d just move along and pretend it never happened. </p><p> </p><p>It bothered him a lot, usually. </p><p> </p><p>Right now he just wanted this stupid scavenger hunt to be over. </p><p> </p><p>—— —— ——</p><p> </p><p>His mood didn’t improve much by the time they finally approached the end of the trail. It was almost sunset, and Din was starving. Paz had been uncharacteristically quiet since their chat in the woods. He marched ahead of Din like the young soldier he was and shoved aside any sticks and branches that got in his way. </p><p> </p><p>Din supposed he’d feel more guilty about the silence if he wasn’t on the verge of tearing his own hair out from frustration. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t even the tracking practice. Sure he felt awful and his feet were definitely blistered, but he could deal with that. He’d had four years to get acclimated to the Mandalorian’s brand of exercise and training for kids his age, physical exhaustion was starting to mean less and less to him. No, what had really upset him was the revelation of his apparent adoption. <em> four years </em>, and he hadn’t noticed a thing. Bes hadn’t even brought it up! </p><p> </p><p>Was he ashamed of Din, or something? Had he only done it out of obligation and guilt because he couldn’t save Din’s parents? The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to scream. The logical part of him knew that Bes really <em> did </em>care about him. Bes had been there for him every step of the way, and had gone out of his way to make him more comfortable in their home. He wasn’t a bad man. </p><p> </p><p>But those thoughts kept nibbling at the edge of his mind. And he was starting to wonder, as he and Paz trudged up a hill in the midsummer evening heat, if Bes had dragged them all the way out there to tell them he was tired of both of them. He and Paz <em> did </em> fight a lot. It was all in good fun, most of the time. The hits were almost never harder than a light swat or a shove into something that wouldn’t hurt them too much. Each of them gave as good as they got, anyways, and they knew their limits. It was just… something they did. Was it getting too much for Bes to deal with? </p><p> </p><p>It figured that Din would find out he had another father, only for him to slip through his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Paz threw an arm out behind him, and Din almost ran straight into it. “Do you hear that?” </p><p> </p><p>“Hear what?” Din whispered, pushing his insecurities to the back of his mind. He reached for the blaster on his hip with wide eyes. He and Paz had only had to use them once outside of training. But he knew how to use it. </p><p> </p><p>“Voices, just ahead. I think it’s buir and the alor… Come on, I wanna hear what they’re saying!” Paz grinned back at him and did his best to inch forward to the tree line. Din frowned and followed him, silent as a mouse. </p><p> </p><p>They ducked behind a tall fallen long and peeked out towards the voices. </p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, Paz had been right. Standing a few feet apart at the top of the hill were Bes and the covert’s alor, Meera, standing in all her glory with heavy white and red armor. Next to Bes she looked almost smaller than usual, though the covered tops of her montrails surpassed his height. </p><p> </p><p>“Like I told you, Bes,” She was saying, hands set on her hips, “we need all the allies we can get. Departing from Death Watch was merely a necessity to maintain our lifestyle.” </p><p> </p><p>“And like <em> I </em> told <em> you </em> , we shouldn’t be associating with them at all anymore! Half of this covert used to be on the other side of that war, Meera, myself included. You can’t keep inviting Kryze or any of Pre’s former lackeys into our home! The entire point of this covert is for us to stay under the radar- <em> away </em> from the Empire.” Din knew the tone Bes was using far too well. It was his ‘disappointed buir’ voice, as Paz liked to call it. </p><p> </p><p>“That is rich, coming from a man who continuously keeps in contact with aruetii bounty hunters just to find one <em> dar’manda </em>.” Meera spat the word out like it was acid, and Din watched Bes bristle. He quietly ducked further behind the log he and Paz were using as cover. </p><p> </p><p>“He is <em> not </em>dar’manda. He was the son of our Mand’alor—!”</p><p> </p><p>“That man was not <em> my </em> Mand’alor. He didn’t even wield the saber.” The old Togruta interrupted with a huff. Din and Paz shared a look, and Din was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one confused as to what was being discussed. </p><p> </p><p>“Neither did my father, yet you followed him anyways.” Bes responded in kind. Din could see how tense they both were. It was like seeing a fuel canister roll near an open furnace. “As I was saying. Neither were or <em> are </em> dar’manda. The boy never got to finish his education. He <em> should </em> have completed the trials at his age. I am trying to reconnect him with his people.”</p><p> </p><p>“And this has nothing to do with your relationship to the elder?” Meera scoffed. </p><p> </p><p>“If it does, you can’t prove it.” </p><p> </p><p>“Mind your tone with me, al’verde. I am still the alor of this covert. If he renounces his heritage and commits to our ways as you have, then I will <em> consider </em> allowing his presence in my home. If you can even find him that is. As for whom I associate us with,” Meera leaned forward and snarled the rest quietly. Paz scowled in frustration and Din felt the same annoyance cut through him, just as much as he was intrigued. Who were they <em> talking </em>about? </p><p> </p><p>Bes’s gaze snapped from Meera toward the log they were hiding behind, and Din froze like a tauntaun in a floodlight. </p><p> </p><p>“How long have you two been crouched there?!” </p><p> </p><p>“Erm,” Din began.</p><p> </p><p>“Um,” Paz added helpfully. </p><p> </p><p>“About a minute.” Meera finished. She looked far more amused than she had a moment ago, though Din couldn’t help but assign most of that to some smug pettiness or another. </p><p> </p><p>Bes sighed and stepped towards them. Both boys looked at each other sheepishly before they stood in unison and at attention. </p><p> </p><p>“Excellent tracking, adike. I’m proud of you two.” Bes said softly as he reached up and rustled their hair. Paz reached out and without a word Bes curled an arm around him in a hug. Din hesitated before he shuffled closer and let Bes hug him too. </p><p> </p><p>“They’re both late.” Meera commented, and Bes glared over his shoulder at her. She shrugged, “they should have been here an hour ago, if not two. I told you not to send your youngest, but you seem to be allergic to listening to me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Din is a good tracker!” Paz snapped and ducked under Bes’ arm to square up to the alor. While he was taller than Din and slowly approaching Bes’s hulking figure, he looked tiny standing before a Mandalorian such as Meera. “So what if he’s younger than me? He should get to do the trials like I am.” </p><p> </p><p>“And who said anything about either of you moving on to your trials, hm?” Meera tilted her head and considered the boy in front of her. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m fifteen in a week, I should’ve taken the trials two years ago.” Paz scowled up at her. “And Din is already twice as good as the other foundlings at <em> everything </em>. He can kick my shebs to the floor and has been doing so since he came! We’re both ready.” </p><p> </p><p>Meera was silent for a moment, and Din felt Bes’s arms tighten around him. Finally, the Togruta began to laugh. A sharp noise that cut through the tension easier than any blade Din had ever had handed to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Your eldest is a very loyal sort.” She said, visor fixed now on Bes. “What of your youngest? Din, come forward.” Bes gently squeezed Din before he let him go. Din swallowed thickly and stepped up beside Paz. He was reminded again of his exhaustion and hunger as his legs began to quake under his own weight, and he balled his hands into fists to try and focus on anything <em> but </em> the bundle of anxiety growing in his chest. “Tell me, Din. What do you think of your skills? Are you modest, or are you a braggart like your vod?” </p><p> </p><p>“I…” Din flicked his gaze over to Paz. The older boy had turned red with rage, but was at least making an <em> attempt </em> to remain passive. To fight the alor was to challenge her leadership. It was a battle Bes couldn’t hope to win. Not unarmed and shoddily armored, and <em> definitely </em>not at the tender age of thirteen. “I think Paz is ready for the trials. But I’m not sure of myself. I still have a lot to learn from Be-... from my buir.” </p><p> </p><p>Meera nodded slowly. </p><p> </p><p>“I see…” She turned to Bes after a long moment of contemplation. </p><p> </p><p>“I will set up the trials for both of them. Have them prepared within seven cycles. On the morning of the eighth, we’ll begin their tests.” She said simply. Without another word she turned and disappeared into the forest. </p><p> </p><p>The family was left quiet in her wake for all of a moment before Paz turned to Din and beamed. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck yeah!” He whooped.</p><p> </p><p>“Who has been teaching you that language?!” Bes sighed. “Come on. I borrowed a speeder, let’s get you two home and fed.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Buir.” Din couldn’t stop the smile that itched at his face. Bes took his hand and squeezed. </p><p> </p><p>—— —— ——</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me you adopted me?” Din asked quietly that night. Paz was curled up on his bunk, dead to the world. Din and Bes had settled down in the pillowed common area of their quarters after their armor was put away. Bes looked up from the data pad he was reading and stared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” </p><p> </p><p>“Paz and I talked about it today. Kind of. I didn’t realize you adopted me.” Din murmured. The tooka plushie that Paz had given him all those years ago was clutched like a lifeline in his hands. It needed to be resewn. Some of the stitches were coming loose. “Why didn’t you say anything?” </p><p> </p><p>Bes was quiet for a long moment. He tapped his fingers against his knee before he finally let out a long sigh. </p><p> </p><p>“I should have. You’re right. It wasn’t fair of me to assume you’d know our customs when you were just introduced to us.” He said softly. He held out one of his hands and Din immediately leaned over to take it. </p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you ever ask me to call you buir?” </p><p> </p><p>“I just… it felt wrong. And as I said, I was foolish. I assumed you just wanted to call me Bes, and I didn’t take offense to it. I wasn’t your father. I was a stranger who wanted to take care of you.” Bes squeezed his hand. “I never wanted to replace your father. I never met him, Din, but he and your mother must have been good people. They raised a good boy.” </p><p> </p><p>Din bravely held back a sniffle, and set the tooka plushie against his knee before he rubbed the tears from his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“You raised me too.” He said. “You still are raising me.” </p><p> </p><p>Bes held out his other arm, this time inviting him closer. Din crawled into his lap and curled into his arms. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you, Din. I may not be your first father, but you’re my son no matter what.” Bes said, his voice heavy with emotion. His hug felt like home.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too, buir.” </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Test Of Will</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi hi, this is late but writers block hit hard. <br/>This chapter is unbeta’d because I didn’t want it to be any later than it was.</p>
<p>This chapter liberally makes decisions on what the Mandalorian trials should be (given that they’re supposed to happen around age 13 and mandos are. Hardcore weirdos) and then spits on those expectations are.</p>
<p>First scene directly inspired by art by Toasty-Cowboy on tumblr! </p>
<p>Mando’a Translations:<br/>Buir - Parent (in this case, father) <br/>Vod - sibling (in this case, brother), the equivalent of ‘dude’ <br/>Beskar’gam- armor <br/>Alor - Leader, officer, chief <br/>Ne’johaa - “shut up”<br/>Adike - children <br/>Gedet’ye- “please” <br/>Al’verde- commander</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sit still,” Paz grumbled, gripping Din’s shoulders roughly. “You’re going to make me stab you. Is that what you want?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stab me first!” Din scowled and glared over his shoulder at his brother. Paz gripped his head and forcibly turned it around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be such a baby! You said you wanted your hair cut before our trials tomorrow, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I thought Bes would be cutting it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two need to learn to cut your hair eventually.” Bes piped up unhelpfully from his cot down the hall. He had been methodically cleaning both of their makeshift beskar’gam all day, and repainted most of it too. “Just don’t stab your eyes out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din groaned and sat as still as possible. He wasn’t going to be saved by his buir this time, then. He tried to entertain himself with the idea that it couldn’t possibly end up </span>
  <em>
    <span>that bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After all, Paz had been learning how to use knives longer than he himself had. As his head was tugged back and forth slightly with the motion of the knife, he found that he was becoming less and less willing to believe in that idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually the tugging stopped and Din chanced a glance back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s it look?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paz was silent for a long moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh. Well. We’ll both be wearing our helmets soon, anyways, right?” He laughed nervously. Din did not miss the blatant attempt by Paz to toss something over his shoulder, and Din narrowed his eyes at the clump of his own curly brown hair now sitting halfway across the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slowly turned toward Paz, who was slowly inching back now with the knife held awkwardly aloft in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... My bad?” Paz wheezed. The corners of his eyes were glittering, and his jaw was clenched too tightly from trying to hold back from cackling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din scowled and jumped at him, trying to wrestle the blade out of his vod’s hands. Paz squawked and tossed it as far across the room as he could. It landed between wall panels with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>twang</span>
  </em>
  <span>. When Din tried to run after it he grabbed him by his ankle and pulled him back to the floor, rolling them so that he had Din pinned under his greater weight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! I know you’re mad, but don’t stab me?” Paz laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to stab you, I’m going to repay the favor!” Din scowled and struggled. All he needed was an opening. He knew Paz better than anyone but Bes- there were at least a dozen places he could hit or pinch to gain a bit of leeway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like hell you are. Besides, you look sophisticated with a bald spot! Nobody’s gonna know tomorrow evening anyways.” Paz rolled his eyes, and shifted </span>
  <em>
    <span>just enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> away from Din’s wriggling legs. Din wasted no time in kneeing him solidly in the stomach and scrambling away when Paz’s hold loosened with a loud huff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The younger boy rushed to where the blade had landed and plucked it free from the wall (he’d have to actually compliment Paz on that later, when he wasn’t mad). He whirled around triumphantly, only- </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>happening</span>
  </em>
  <span> out here?” Bes had apparently left his bunk. He still had part of Paz’s chest plate in his hands, running a cloth through all of the scratches and dents as he gave them both a very unimpressed look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Paz tried to make me bald!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Din is trying to kill me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both boys eyed each other narrowly, and Bes let out a heavy sigh. He placed the chest piece on top of a counter and held out his hand to Din, who scowled, but placed the knife in his buir’s hand. It was quickly put back in it’s sheath on Bes’s thigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I swear, you two are going to be the death of me one day. I can’t leave you two alone for ten minutes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t say that,” Paz laughed as he pushed himself off the ground, “you’re going to die of old age like the grumpy old man you are at heart, buir.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll show you a grumpy old man.” Bes said, and Din could </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the smirk in his voice. With little warning the older Mandalorian vaulted over the low table Din and Paz usually ate at and lunged at his oldest son. Paz shrieked as he was tackled, though it quickly turned into laughter as the two wrestled on the ground. Din snickered and watched them from the sidelines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was odd, he realized, just how big, Paz had gotten. How big he’d gotten too, he reasoned. Paz was almost of a height with Bes now, though only half as bulky. Din was still far shorter than both of them. And Paz looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>different than the boy in Din’s memory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>There weren’t many mirrors in the covert. Actually… Din didn’t think there </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> any. The last time he’d seen his reflection outside of a puddle was when he and Paz had gotten their buy’ce measurements done a few days ago. He’d looked so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in the reflection of the polished beskar the Armorers had laid out for him. He knew Paz had the wispy beginnings of a beard, he’d seen the baby hairs himself, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> face had gone from round to long and sharp within the last two years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din, though? Din hadn’t realized just how square his own face was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or how much like his mother he really looked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din didn’t like his reflection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, he reasoned as he watched Bes pin his brother face down on the floor, he wouldn’t have to show his face to anyone again if they passed the trials tomorrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a big if.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bes woke them early the next morning. He was eerily silent as he handed them their blasters which were freshly cleaned (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did he even sleep?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Din wondered) and a few ration bars each. That meant they were in for a flight. Maybe even a long one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din hadn’t left the planet since the covert had dragged him from the battlefield, but he’d watched others leave. Were their trials supposed to take place off planet? He didn’t dare ask. Not when Bes was hovering behind both his and Paz’s shoulders with clenched fists. He was fairly sure he knew the answer already anyways, if his buir was acting so strange.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were ushered outside the bunker and up toward the landing pad, the barest hint of dawn lighting their way. One of the small transports the covert owned was already running, and standing outside by the ramp waiting for them was Alor Meera. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old togruta looked regal in the pink and orange light. Her pristine white armor took on the hues like a palette, cut through by bold red stripes. She had a heavy-looking grey fur cloak draped around her shoulders. Ceremonial, Din acknowledged with a gulp. And here he was, wearing beskar’gam that barely fit him that was painted a deep blue to match Bes’s worn durasteel. Paz, at least, looked like he belonged in the mismatched armor. He stood proud, chin tilted up with his shoulders squared. He held a confidence Din didn’t feel at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would have to be enough for both of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was wondering when you’d bother to show up, Vizsla.” Meera mused and clasped her hands behind her back. Bes quietly saluted her, and both Din and Paz followed suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are ready to begin when you are, alor.” Bes said. His voice was strained, and thinly laced with a venom that made Din anxious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Get moving and strap yourselves in. We take off in three.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned on her heel and stalked up the ramp of the transport. Din silently reached up and squeezed Bes’s hand before he and Paz climbed up after her. Bes hesitated only a moment before he followed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning everyone, this is your captain speaking,” Midze’s voice flared over the comms as they made their way up to the transports seats. “Make sure all effects- including your bodies- are secured before launch. Last thing I want is for someone to fly around the hull when we hit the atmosphere.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that… a normal problem?” Din asked quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only with her.” Bes chuckled softly as he strapped in. “But don’t mind her. She’s old and losing it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can hear you, Y’know, I have security feeds! I’ve been flying these buckets since before you were born.” Midze’s voice filtered above them again. Meera sighed loudly and kicked the door to the cockpit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ne'johaa. We have a job to do, close the hatch and take off.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yessir.” The comm clicked off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din clenched his fists tightly as the transport began to jolt, and tried not to imagine how their trials could be cut short by airborne accidents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They arrived at their destination after about three hours of tense silence and mild boredom that Din didn’t dare show. Not in front of Meera, anyways. The hatch swung open slowly once they had landed, revealing a quiet, forest mountain landscape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we?” He whispered to Bes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ispet’s moon. If you look up in the right direction, you should be able to see it.” His buir replied in the same hushed tone. He nudged Din forward toward the surface without another word, and ushered Paz after him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din looked over his shoulder when he heard the cockpit door open with a soft hiss. Midze poked her head out, her garishly bright pink and orange beskar almost too harsh to look at under the LED lights onboard. She gestured to Meera, who moved to the door and leaned her head close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something he wasn’t meant to hear, then. Though he didn’t understand the theatrics of it. If they wanted not to be heard, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> just use a private comm channel. He huffed and turned his gaze back to the forest moon ahead of him as his feet crushed a group of ferns with a soft crunching noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d we come here for our trials? Didn’t Meera’s foundling get to have hers planetside?” Paz asked, narrowing his gaze as he scoured the landscape ahead of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not on </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> planet. Usha had hers on Concord Dawn.” Bes hummed. “I didn’t go along with them. Slaakon took my place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Din asked. He had shaded his eyes against the sun filtering through the oddly green atmosphere as he tried to find the planet he’d come to think of as </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the sky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I had to train you two. And I don’t like leaving the covert undefended.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we’re safe on Ispet. All that’s planetside are farmers and a few small outposts, what is there to worry about?” Paz scoffed and crossed his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Complacency breeds idiocy.” Meera said primly as she made her descent down the ramp. She stood in front of them and clasped her hands behind her back, her furs billowing behind her in the breeze. Paz bit his tongue and scowled, though Din was frankly impressed by his uncharacteristic display of restraint. When neither boy nor Bes spoke against her, the Togruta cleared her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin. As your Alor, it is my privilege and duty to oversee your trials alongside your buir.” She began, “Your tasks are as follows; find a defensible location and set a perimeter, defend against an enemy attack, and then drive them away, else, you fight to the last breath. Metaphorically, of course. We aren’t out to kill you.” She seemed to chuckle at herself, as if she thought it was funny, and Din bit back a frown. “Bes and I will serve as your foes. All blasters will be set to half charge. As per tradition, you will have a two hour head start.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tilted her head down at them and gestured to the forests behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your time begins now, adike.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paz and Din shared a brief look before they took off in tandem down the rocky plateau Midze had landed them on. It wasn’t long before they disappeared into the undergrowth together, and even the crashing of branches under their feet became little more than a distant echo to the ears of the well-trained Mandalorians they left in their dust. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... You know I hate lying to them.” Bes said once the noises of their running had faded into the distance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All good parents do.” Meera replied with a simple shrug. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Your children are strong. The worst they will get from this, is a scar or two to prove their mettle.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bes shrugged her touch away and walked to the edge of the plateau, peering out to the woods around them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We still don’t know how many are out there, Meera. I don’t feel good about this. We could have sent half a battalion to clear them out, but you insist on using </span>
  <em>
    <span>children</span>
  </em>
  <span>—“ </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you believe in their skill?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Their skill has </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do with it.” Bes snapped back, “and you know it doesn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old were you during your first true battle, Bes?” Meera hummed as she moved to stand beside him. “Fourteen?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fifteen. Paz’s age.” He gritted out. “But I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>passed </span>
  </em>
  <span>my trials. My </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual</span>
  </em>
  <span> trials.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>true</span>
  </em>
  <span> battle.” She hummed. “They will live, Vizsla. Trust in them. We may not see eye to eye, al’verde, but you are my strongest warrior. If you trained them, then there is little they cannot accomplish.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bes sighed thickly and clenched his fists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... If anything happens to them, Alor? I will kill you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If they die? I would let you.” Meera said and turned on her heel. She climbed back up the ramp, and left Bes to watch the woods alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din slowed to a stop at the edge of a small brook filled with some sort of liquid that was just as swampy green as the atmosphere. It smelled sour and strong, but he tried not to breathe too much of the fumes as he stopped to catch his breath. Paz broke free of the tree line a moment after he did, shoulders heaving with exertion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you stop?” Paz asked as he pushed a few strands of his sweaty blonde hair off his forehead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve been running- for a mile.” Din managed to say between gulps of air. He half wondered if the moon had less oxygen in its atmosphere than Ispet did, if it was already making him this woozy. He’d become accustomed to pacing himself through longer runs during Bes’s training. “We can take a break.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Din, we don’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>time</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take a break.” Paz huffed. The older boy clapped his shoulder hard, and Din stumbled a little in place. “C’mon, let’s get moving again. Once we find a place to set up in, we’ll take five, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. Whatever.” Din groaned and took his brother’s hand. Paz squeezed it and tugged him along until he was running again. Past the strange brook, back through the rocky woodlands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lungs burned with every breath, and his legs were beginning to ache something fierce. But Paz kept tugging him every time he slowed. He kept pace. He didn’t have much of a choice. The last thing he wanted was to be left behind to fend for himself during the trials on a moon he didn’t even know if the water was drinkable on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t want to be separated from his family, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he ran. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din had stopped trying to guess how long they’d been moving when he spotted it. Din had never met a member of the Empire that the covert was so worried about, but he had seen the holovids. He knew what an imperial insignia looked like, even from a distance, and he knew what their stormtroopers looked like too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gripped Paz’s arm and shoved him down to the ground, crouching and putting a hand over the older boy's mouth when he tried to snap at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh! Look!” He whispered, pointing with his free hand off towards the distance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a clearing, there were a dozen imperial troopers, milling around a broken down transport. Several of them were climbing on top of the downed shuttle, tools sparking in their hands as they tried to fix the engines and wings. The others were gathered in a loose circle not too far away, pointing at what Din could only presume was a map and seemingly talking amongst themselves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paz’s eyes widened once he saw them and he pushed Din down further, until they were both pressed against the ground on their stomachs and peeking out through the bushes. He watched the troopers for a long moment before he began to reach for his blaster, and Din quickly grabbed his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?! They outnumber us, and they haven’t dampened their blasters.” Din hissed quietly through his teeth. Paz scowled and smacked his hand away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave them</span>
  </em>
  <span>! They’re going to find the covert if they stick around this system.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span>! We need to go back and warn the alor, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>shoot them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din’s whisper bordered on a shout. He took a deep breath and reigned himself back in. “Paz, we can’t fight them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, we can. We have weapons.” Paz scowled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>kids</span>
  </em>
  <span>! If we take them on they’ll kill us or worse. We’re not going to win.” The only real things they’d ever killed, too, were rats and, on one unfortunately memorable occasion, a rabid tauntaun from one of the farms neighboring the covert. Never </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have to do something, Din. Don’t be a coward.” Paz snarled and reached for his blaster again. Din opened his mouth to argue, before he heard a soft click behind them and a shiver ran down his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drop your weapons and turn around!” A trooper growled behind them. “Slowly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din took a shaky breath and turned. Paz stubbornly whipped around and held his blaster aloft, ready to shoot. The trooper swiped with the butt of their blaster rifle and sent the smaller weapon flying into the undergrowth to their right, before he  leveled the rifle between Paz’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You. On your knees, hands behind your back.” The trooper ordered. The dark glint of the visor turned ever so briefly towards Din. “You. Drop your holster.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Paz scowled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>, gedet'ye,” Din whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said,” the trooper snapped and prodded the space between Paz’s eyes with his rifle, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>get. Down</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a loud blast in Din’s ears as the blaster went off. The trooper slumped onto his side, rifle and plastoid armor clattering to the ground noisily as a puff of smoke escaped from their neck. Din clutched the blaster in his hands like a lifeline as a terrible moment of silence passed. He didn’t remember pulling his blaster out of its holster, nor pulling the trigger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paz turned to him and grabbed his shoulder as shouts began to echo behind them, where the other troopers were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Run.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din didn’t need to be told twice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ran deeper into the woods without a second thought, one hand still clutching his blaster so hard that his knuckles had turned white and strained. He could hear movement and blaster fire behind him, but didn’t dare turn his head to see if it was Paz, or the troopers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Four years had passed since his parents had died, and in those four years he had never been as terrified as he was then until now. When he blinked he could almost hear the clanking of a battle droid behind him. Hear it send off a rocket that would tear through yet another neighbor’s home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din tripped on a rock and fell out of the memory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he hissed to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slid down a steep hill in his way and ducked down underneath a large rocky outcropping. He didn’t dare let out a breath as the heavy footfalls came closer and closer, until he saw Paz running past his hiding spot. His brother had taken the rifle off of the trooper who’d been threatening them and was firing it behind himself blindly as he ran. As soon as Din saw him, he was gone, and several troopers in white armor came charging after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din wanted to keep hiding. He wanted to crawl into the mud under the outcropping and disappear until Bes came looking for them. He’d… </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone. Actually killed someone. An imperial, yes, but even with all the training Bes had given him, nothing would’ve prepared him for this. But. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>These imperials were trying to kill him, now. Trying to kill Paz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t going to just let that happen, not when he could do something about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din crawled out from under the outcropping, movements silent and practiced after years of copying his buir. He followed the troopers from a distance, eyes fluttering over them trying to find any weakness. Any sign. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His luck came through when he saw one of them moving their hand to their belt, and saw the charges. Din sucked in a breath and lined up the shot. The blast charge exploded in the trooper’s hand, taking a good chunk of the troopers with it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two that were left circled back on him, rifles high, only for both of their helmets to suddenly jerk back with the force of three shots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What took you so damn long?” Paz asked as he melted from the undergrowth on the dead trooper’s left, his stolen rifle propped casually against his shoulder. “I thought you abandoned me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I didn’t. Are there any more?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you got about five of them. I got four… there should be three more.” Paz hummed and trotted up to his side. “Why don’t we go hunt them down, huh? Better than them getting the drop on us.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din stared up at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you so calm about this?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just—… we </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span> people.” Din whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So did they.” Paz reached up and squeezed his shoulder. He was silent for a moment too. “... I don’t think we’re supposed to enjoy it. But we’re supposed to do it. Y’know? Nobody ever heard of a pacifist Mandalorian. At least, not one anyone ever respected.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if they had families?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re threatening </span>
  <em>
    <span>ours</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I… look. Din, I don’t like it either. But we have to deal with it.” He squeezed Din’s shoulder again before he gestured behind him. “Stay behind me and watch my back. I’ll take on anyone else we need to, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din glanced at the bodies that littered the ground around them. He took a deep breath and fell in line behind his brother, silently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>—— —— —— </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meera and Bes were waiting for them, when they wandered back to the imperial base camp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their alor had her back turned to them as she swiped through a datapad, clearly searching for something. Bes however, made no such attempts at nonchalance. Their buir ran to them and pulled them both into a tight hug with little preamble. Din returned the hug, eyes already beginning to brim with tears that he didn’t want to shed. Not in front of Meera. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you two okay?” Bes asked quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think they grazed my arm, but that’s nothing Tal and Wave can’t fix with some bacta.” Paz sighed, resting his head against his buir’s shoulder and squeezing Din’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good… Din?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... M’fine.” He whispered. He decidedly did not mention how his ankle had been aching ever since the adrenaline had worn off. He must’ve twisted it when he tripped earlier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did I tell you, al’verde?” Meera hummed. “Your boys are strong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bes made a noise that sounded halfway between a mangled curse and a growl, and squeezed them both tighter to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meera finally turned to face them, and waved the datapad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They crash landed. Idiots who got separated from their main force during an emergency evacuation of a Star Destroyer. We should have nothing to worry about in terms of reinforcements so long as we destroy their beacon and computers before we leave.” She paused and looked them over. “... I say this is more than enough of a trial, for two inexperienced children.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Bes said, his voice dripping with venom. “Then let’s get them home. They can swear the resol’nare before the covert and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>rest</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed.” Meera shrugged. She reached out her hand. “One of you flies with me. Your buir can only carry so many of you back to the transport.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paz looked down at Din, and then up at Bes. He smiled briefly and pulled away to stand beside the alor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you two on the ship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t drop him.” Bes sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tempting as it may be,” Meera laughed, “I intend to keep him alive.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Color me shocked.” Bes grumbled. Paz made a face, and then in a moment he and Meera were gone, propelled by Meera’s jetpack out into the open air. Bes knelt in front of Din and offered out his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Din crawled into the embrace, and shut his eyes tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night there would be celebration, and he would put on his buy’ce alongside his vod. The covert would cheer for him, and compliment Uliah and Slaakon’s forgework. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But for now, he was just a child. And he wanted to hide from all he had done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they got back to the ship, Bes silently handed him and Paz the stuffed tooka they had kept intact throughout the years, smuggled away in a pocket on his flight suit. Din pressed the toy to his face, and hid his tears against it and Paz’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Meera should not be in charge of this covert nor of children but tbh. She’s probably standard as far as bad Mandalorian parents go.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Baby Steps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Once more unbeta'd because I'm a bit behind where I wanna be! This was supposed to be a shorter chapter but it turned into Not That. In this chapter Din is 13, and Paz is 16. <br/>Small notes too but Uliah is The Armorer from the show, and Slaakon is her adoptive father and a Tusken (grown) foundling. <br/>Coming up for the next two chapters there will be another longer time skip! </p><p>Mando'a translations:<br/>Ad - child, 'son' in this case<br/>Buy'ce - helmet<br/>Buir - parent, 'father' in this case<br/>Vod'ika - little sibling (affectionate)<br/>Vod - sibling, 'brother' in this case <br/>'ika - 'little', an affectionate diminutive</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The covert was bustling with activity this morning. Din watched from the sidelines as several of the older Mandalorians stacked crates and chatted amongst themselves, a few foundlings weaving around them to help or examine what they were moving. He could see Bes standing with a woman- Vorel Cadera, he assumes, based on the color of her armor and style of her helmet-, both talking animatedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vorel had just gotten back from a big hunt, or so Tal had told him that morning when he was helping them unpack medical supplies. Apparently the quarry had been worth enough credits to fully restock the entire covert. Which was good. They hadn’t had much income lately, and the locals’ generosity would have only lasted them so long if their rations had run out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a good situation, all things considered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Din didn’t feel right about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled his knees up to his chest, relaxing just a little as the various metals of his armor let out small </span>
  <em>
    <span>clang</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s and </span>
  <em>
    <span>tink</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s. He should be out there, helping the covert earn credits. Bes had been taking Paz out on jobs ever since they’d been given their buy’ce, but whenever he asked Din to join them, Din had refused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go. To see more of the Galaxy, to learn from his buir and spend time with them. But every time he held a blaster at the practice range, every single time he moved within range of the landing pad, he began to feel sick. His vision would swim and he would shake so hard that he would drop whatever he was holding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(“It’s a trauma response, Din,” Tal had told him once, when he’d begged them to make sure he wasn’t going crazy. “It’s not shocking. You’re a kid, and most kids don’t do what we do.”) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stop it. He really had. Bes had been supportive, if very unsure of how to help, and so had Paz. But Din couldn’t help but feel like every day that passed without him following in their footsteps was another day he was inching towards failure. Inching towards a future where they’d abandon him on some farm and take the beskar he’d quite literally killed to earn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shuddered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You cold or something?” Paz’s voice filtered behind him, and Din startled enough to fall visor-first off of the crate he’d perched up on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dank farrik</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Paz, what the hell-?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. What?” Paz guffawed. His brother angled himself so that he had one leg perched on top of the crate Din was just on, both subtly blocking him from sitting again </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> showing off his freshly stolen (by give or take a month or so, but Paz had never missed an opportunity to show off) armor. “What the fuck did you just say?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Buir told me to stop cursing so much.” Din grumbled. He decided that getting off the floor was too much effort, and rolled onto his side to glare up at his vod instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re… cursing in stupid backwater slang instead?” The older boy snickered and shook his head. Din almost missed seeing his stupid face every day, but he had to admit that the sleek blue helmet fit him. Probably better than Din’s own unpainted beskar did. “You can’t keep saying that shit, Din. It’s stupid.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
  <em>
    <span>re</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Top tier reply, vod’ika.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din groaned and made a particularly rude gesture with his hands. Paz’s snicker turned into another roaring laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Buir!!! So he can’t curse, but he can tell me to fuck off in Tusken sign?!” Paz shouted across the storage unit. Bes’s sigh could be heard echoing all the way from the other end of the bunker, as could a husky sound that Din could only really describe as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cackle</span>
  </em>
  <span> coming from Slaakon, one of the armorers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gave up on trying to get you boys to stop that language two years ago! Stop bullying your vod and use those muscles to actually move something instead of being a nuisance!” Bes called back. Din snickered softly, and Paz returned the order with a mock salute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His brother moved his leg off the crate and stretched briefly before he looked down at Din and tipped his helmet in a gesture similar to a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Help me move some boxes around, and I’ll do your dishes tonight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> dishes most nights, Paz. I’ll pass.” Din huffed and pushed himself to his feet. “I promised Uliah and Slaakon I’d help them clean the forge, anyways.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bastard. I’ll leave my dishes undone tonight on purpose. Just to screw with you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again, you do that </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>night.” Din scoffed and elbowed his vod, only to get shoved halfway back to the floor by the responding elbow. Paz just laughed and slapped his shoulder fondly as he headed off back to the throng of Mandalorians, busy as worker bees in a hive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watched them for another moment before he moved on. It was hard to say he was alone, especially not when he reached the forge and began to help Uliah, regally dressed in furs and matte red beskar with her prominent golden helm, sweep and clean every inch of the forge. But he did feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The part of his shoulder Paz had touched buzzed something fierce, even though there was no bruise or even irritated skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wondered when that had started. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wondered if he even wanted to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din woke in the middle of the night. That wasn’t uncommon these days. He had nightmares about the forest moon. About his parents too, sometimes. They kept him up late, and woke him far too early. Tal had been begging him to take the sleep aids they and Wave had on hand, but something had stayed his hand from opening the tin they were kept in every time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was uncommon about this wake up call, was that his buir’s buy’ce was the first thing he saw staring back at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Buir? What time is it?” He croaked quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two am.” He whispered, the noise barely picking up through the vocoder. “I want to show you something. C’mon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din knew better than to argue with his buir by now. Even though every muscle in his body screamed and begged to lie back down, fatigued from months without proper sleep, and from the vigorous workout that cleaning the forge had proven to be. He shoved himself to his feet and quietly took Bes’s hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes tugged him along with no explanation, though he paused and made Din put on his boots. He ushered Din out of the bunker and out toward the tarmac that made the landing pad. Din felt himself freeze in place, body making up for what his tired brain was still processing. Bes looked over his shoulder and squeezed his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Din,” he said gently. “Just trust me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. I swear on my life, we aren’t flying in a ship, okay? No blasters. Just you and me, ok, Din’ika?” The knot in his gut didn’t loosen, but it did feel a bit lighter. He took a hesitant step forward and Bes squeezed his hand. He felt almost robotic in his movements. Like it wasn’t quite him piloting his own body. Din hardly even noticed when Bes helped him into the speeder (‘requisitioned’ from Vorel’s latest bounty success) and they took off into the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure when he’d dozed off, but when he woke up again, it was late morning, and the speeder had stopped. Bes had parked them off to the side of a large junkyard that Din didn’t recognize the sign for- how far out had they gone?- and he could just barely see the stark blue of his buir’s armor off by the tall fence that surrounded the place. Bes was standing straight, hands perched high on his hips as he stared down a rather wimpy looking bothan. Din snorted to himself as he hopped out of the speeder. He’d seen Bes try and intimidate people before, and it never failed to amuse him, especially when it worked. Din had spent far too much time watching Bes stitch up that silly little plushie (for that raggedy and floppy tooka had become somewhat of a family obsession, in the years since Din had been accepted into it) to see his buir as anything but a tired old softie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I said, uh, Mr. Mandalorian, sir,” The bothan was chattering nervously, voice increasing in pitch when he noticed Din slide into place on Bes’s left hand side, “I-I’m afraid I really don’t have anything of interest to such accomplished-,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, save it.” Bes snarled, and the almost hyena-looking bothan in front of them snapped his jaws shut in an instant. “Either you show us your stock, or I break your kneecaps and leave you for the scrap mice to dig into. What’s it going to be, kid?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din barely suppressed a snort when the bothan scurried to the gate and swung it open with all of his strength, wringing his hands together as Bes took the invitation and marched forward, Din not too far behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t report me to the Empire.” The bothan squeaked as he scurried after them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No promises.” Bes hummed. Din actually did snort at that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scrapyard was, predictably, full of useless junk in all shapes and sizes. As well as some rather large yet skittish rodents that hissed and crawled underneath the large piles of scrap metal and broken wires. Probably the ‘scrap mice’ Bes had threatened the bothan with, Din reasoned, though they looked more like feral and horribly mutated hamsters in his opinion. Hamsters the size of one of Bes’s biceps… Okay. Maybe not hamsters. But they were just about the only creature Din could think of that fit the mold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are we looking for?” He asked his buir quietly instead of dwelling on his hamster-related internal debate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Bes hummed ahead of him, turning his buy’ce just enough so that he could look back at Din from the corner of his visor, “I’m looking for a new ship. Midze’s getting too old to be flying us all across the galaxy like she is, and she’s needed here, for when we actually move the covert,” Din frowned, though his buir couldn’t see. He wasn’t surprised to hear that the covert would be moving sooner rather than later, but it still stung. He’d gotten far too used to the bunker, as cramped and crowded as it could be when every member of the covert was home, and he’d definitely gotten used to the farmers who lived around them. He’d miss the Salwa’s especially, even though Sonya in particular had become rather despondent once she realized he wasn’t able to taste test her baked goods anymore now that he had his helmet. He was certain Tal would miss them too, though for far more personal reasons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you need a new ship, why did you bring me?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound half as petulant as he thought he did. “Isn’t Paz going with you most of the time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes was quiet for a moment before he slowed his gait and wrapped an arm around Din’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Din. I love your brother with all of my heart, much as I love you, but he would advise a ship based on speed and looks rather than durability and reliability.” Bes said and tapped the top of Din’s buy’ce with the back of his fingers. “You, meanwhile, tend to catch little things that both Paz and I would miss. I’m trusting you to help me pick something out- something that all three of us can get some use out of, once you’re ready to join us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din bit back a wave of nausea as it rippled up his body. Ready to go out and shoot at people again? No. He didn’t think he could handle that. As if reading his mind, Bes squeezed his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only once you’re ready, okay?” Bes murmured softly, so that the bothan wouldn’t overhear, “I’m not going to force you to do anything, no matter what Meera or anyone else says about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you do it?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Learn to block it out? I… I still think about those troopers. A lot. How did you stop?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bes was quiet for another long moment, kicking aside a large pipe that lay in their path. The bothan who’d been tailing them let out a yelp of surprise, and a slew of apologies for the mess that Din didn’t bother to try and listen to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Did I ever tell you about my time in the civil wars?” Bes asked instead of answering. Din shook his head, and Bes continued, “I was about Paz’s age when they really kicked off. I watched a lot of my friends die. I killed a good dozen or so people I’d grown up in the same town with. I still think about all of those people. Not daily, anymore, but more often than I care to say. It doesn’t get easier, Din. You just… learn to live with it. I know that’s not very inspiring, or helpful, and I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault-,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should never have let you and Paz do that damn trial together. You’re too young to have this kind of weight on your shoulders, Din.” Bes interrupted, voice shockingly fragile. “Paz is too. Both of you kids deserved better, and I shouldn’t have let you get put in that position.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din crossed his arms, hugging himself tightly. Maybe Bes shouldn’t have, yeah, but he found it hard to blame his buir for following the orders he was given. For following their creed, and their ways. If anything, he blamed Meera, for breaking that tradition and their trust. But even then he found it hard to blame her. Even though he had every reason to, in a sick way he almost understood her logic. He and Paz were hardly </span>
  <em>
    <span>traditional</span>
  </em>
  <span> foundlings. Paz barely even counted as a foundling, given his blood ties. They were rowdy backtalkers, with attachments to people outside the covert, who were raised by a man who was simultaneously her right hand man, and her worst critic and rival. He understood why her trial had been so strangely dangerous and rigorous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But understanding didn’t make it right. Deep down Din knew this. He just didn’t want to face it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, buir.” Din said instead of voicing any of the tumultuous thoughts cycling through his brain. If Bes’s sigh was any indication, his buir was holding back thoughts of his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Din’ika.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bothan behind them let out a hesitant cough, and both Mandalorians whipped their heads around to glare at him. The hyena-looking alien balked and shrunk away from their gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Erm- sorry to interrupt your, um. Your talk, sirs, I just. Uh. The ships I have for sale are this way.” He gestured off to the right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Bes replied blandly, and he and Din followed the new direction in sync. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—— —— ——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This thing is a piece of junk.” Din declared as he scoped the inside of the third ship he and Bes had been shown in the past two hours. “I don’t even think it’ll fly straight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who needs actual flight controls anyways?” Bes added with faux cheerfulness from the cockpit. Din snorted when he realized that half of the controls had, in fact, rusted away to nothing. “What is this bothan trying to pull on us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably nothing, I mean. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> terrified of us. Why would he be showing us all the bad options if he had better ones?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ad, if I die without teaching you anything else in life, may I pass down this one lesson; no one is ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> intimidated by you. It takes effort.” Bes chuckled and gently flicked the side of his helmet with his forefinger. “Watch this and follow my lead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din nodded and followed his buir out of the rusty ship (though calling it a ship at this point was really a stretch). He stood a few steps behind him and crossed his arms, trying his best to look intimidating. Though it occurred to him that if he didn’t have his helmet on, his presence would be anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wasn’t exactly a </span>
  <em>
    <span>scary</span>
  </em>
  <span> thirteen year old. His face was still squishy with baby fat and the barest hint of facial hair was beginning to creep on the edges of his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, exactly, do you think you’re trying to pull on us?” Bes growled at the bothan, who seized up on the rusty perch he’d weaseled his way onto in the Mandolorian’s absence, as if height would offer him any protection from a tall man in a jetpack. “I know you have ships. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Actual </span>
  </em>
  <span>ships.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“T-This is hardly an imperial shipyard-,” The bothan began to say. Bes took a heavy step forward, cracking his gloved knuckles deliberately. “N-Now now! There’s no need to get like this sir, I’m just doing my job. Please don’t kill me-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I won’t kill you. But I might have my son use you as a practice target.” Din could hear Bes’s smirk as clear as day in his voice. “You ever seen a Mandalorian hunt? Normally we’re clean… coordinated… Our young ones? Oh, no such luck. They’re messy at this age. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Far</span>
  </em>
  <span> less efficient.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bothan balked a little at that. The hyena-looking man turned to face Din anxiously, and Din rolled his eyes in silence. He flexed his shoulder muscles and cracked his own knuckles, and the alien visibly shrank backwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“R-Right. Right, I uh, am so sorry, sirs. I- Oh. There’s… I have a ship you might like. Just don’t kill me, yes?” He practically whimpered and jumped back to the ground, gesturing for both Mandalorians to follow him as he ran with his literal tail tucked between his legs. Bes looked over his shoulder at Din and tapped the top of his own visor in a mock of a wink before he followed the terrified bothan. Din shook his head in mute incredulousness and trailed after them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True to his word, the next ship the skittish bothan showed them actually appeared to be functional. It looked like a basic military patrol ship- probably pre-empire, too, as there wasn’t an imperial signet welded onto the side. There wasn’t a signet of any kid on it, actually, though it appeared to be impressive enough. Din hummed as he edged around the side of the ship, trailing his fingers along the hull. He tuned out Bes and the bothan’s discussion behind him, instead pausing when his investigation drew his eyes to the side door. It was open, unlocked due to the lack of keycode. He pushed it open and carefully pulled himself in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before today started, he hadn’t been inside of a ship since Midze had piloted himself and Paz back home from their trials on Ispet’s moon. Each step he took inside one still left him with a slight roll of nausea in his gut, but it was nothing compared to how he’d felt on the tarmac that morning. It was easier to ignore now, though. Maybe it was just the location. Din carefully pressed his hand along the wall until he found a control panel, and switched the lights on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The interior of the ship was rather cramped- or would be, for people the size of Bes and Paz. The main cargo bay area was lined with a few straps- possibly for holding crates steady in hyperspace. That or they were just there to strap in a Hutt. There was a small alcove near the small on-board ‘fresher (which probably needed to be replaced), that looked like it could fit about half of Din’s current cot in the bunker. There was a ladder, too, that led up toward the cockpit. Din clambered up and slipped past the opened bulkhead doors. Around the piloting array were three seats padded with leather that looked so stale that Din was shocked they didn’t crumble when he touched them. When he tapped the array, it glitched to life slowly, every button lighting up one after another. It was an old model, but that was nothing new to him. Even before he’d started avoiding the tarmac, he’d noticed most of the ships (which weren’t very numerous. The covert shared most of their resources, and the few who owned personal ships usually were only staying in the bunker once every few months before they went back out to the stars in search of bounties or other ways to make credits) were at the very least about thirty years old. Constantly patched up with spare parts and circuits stolen from imperial ships or the speeders and ships of bounties. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you think about this one?” Bes’s voice filtered in from the first deck. Din smiled a little to himself and headed back toward the ladder, leaning over the hole down to the bay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Systems are actually online for this one, and it looks like it’ll hold up if it’s survived this dump.” He replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there a running beacon?” Bes asked, gripping a rung of the ladder and peering up at Din’s helmet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t see one. I think it might be off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. The bothan said it’s surplus from when the Republic was still around, it’s supposed to be disabled by default. This model’s supposed to be older than I am.” Bes said and tilted his head, “What are your thoughts on it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din paused for a moment and tapped his fingers against the metal wall to his left. It wasn’t an awful ship. Sure, it didn’t look like much, but as long as it ran… And it </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> could last for quite a while, even with the wear and tear it’d seen…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s the best one we’re getting from this guy.” Din finally said, “I’d definitely run it and check, but I dunno… it looks like it’ll fly for a good while.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> it?” Bes pressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does that… matter?” Din asked, unable to hide his confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Bes snorted softly. He leaned more heavily against the ladder. “Din, you and Paz will be the ones who actually own the ship when I’m gone. Of course it matters.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… But you won’t be gone for a long time, right? You’ll probably outlive this thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fifty-three, Din. I’m not getting any younger, and neither are you two. Unless we manage to piss off the Empire and get this thing blown to pieces, we can make it last as long as we need it to. You and Paz might not even outlive it if we treat her right.” Bes patted the hull fondly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din frowned, and nodded quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So do you like it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… Yeah. I think it’s pretty nice for a ship we found in some crappy scrapyard.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Bes reached one hand up towards him, and Din took it and squeezed. “She’s called the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Razor Crest</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then. Get yourself situated up there. I’d like to do a little test-run before I buy her.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Din’s hold on Bes’s hand tightened just a fraction before he forced himself to breathe again. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to get off of this ship, but the alternatives were… not enticing. He took a deep breath and let go of Bes’s hand to let his buir go speak to the poor bothan outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could do this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(And hours later, when he and Bes finally flew the ship back to the bunker and met a group of their covert out at the doors, Din still felt that fear. The creeping need to run away from the ship and hide, or throw up in his buy’ce. But he didn’t. It wasn’t much. But it was a start.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've realized too late that Paz is the comic relief of this fic because if it was just Bes and Din, they'd angst the whole damn time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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